As Shadows Draw Near
by WackyD
Summary: A band of orcs begins attacking Minas Tirith, at the same time a strange epidemic begins to spread over the city. Will the cure be found, and the motives of the orcs uncovered? Please R&R! *Chapter 2 Up!*
1. Chapter I

_Title: As Shadows Draw Near_

_Author: WackyD_

_Rating: PG_

Summary: A band of orcs begins attacking Minas Tirith, at the same time a strange epidemic begins to spread over the city. Will the cure be found, and the motives of the orcs uncovered? Please R&R!

_Characters: Aragorn, Faramir, Arwen, Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf, Eowyn, and a new one called Rydrel. (No hobbits, sorry!)_

"King Elessar?" The questing voice rose out of the darkness like a buoy, breaking the spell of silence that had been laid upon Aragorn.

            "Yes?" He replied calmly, his voice giving no sign that he was trying to still his heart, which was beating fast with surprise. He'd been so certain no one had been here but him. He had not even invited Arwen to this small, secluded garden on the outskirts of the palace. This place was his solace, his wall between him and the real world. Here he could forget his troubles, if only for an instant.

            "Aragorn, these guards wish to speak to you. I am sorry to disturb you, but it is exceedingly urgent." Recognizing the voice of Faramir, Aragorn wheeled to face the intruders.

            "What is it?" He asked shortly, still slightly miffed at being cheated of his privacy. He hadn't thought anyone had known this place was here but him.

            "An army of orcs rides from the far north, on a direct path to clash with Minas Tirith, sir." The first of two soldiers spoke, saluting smartly as he did so. He was dressed in the livery of a palace guard, bearing the badge of a captain upon his muscled chest.

            "How many? And why?" Aragorn asked bluntly, fighting the urge to sink his head into his hands and scream. This was the last thing he needed, not while he was so busy already…

            "They number forty score, milord. As for their reasoning, who knows what churns in the dank minds of orcs? They have been sent by an overlord, they may have come of their own free will." The second guard said quietly. 

            Aragorn muttered a few Elvish curses under his breath, but then straightened as he caught the guard's words. "You say they are only 800 strong? That is hardly enough to poise a threat." He nearly scoffed, eyebrows raised in two elegant arches.

            "Shall we leave the army to deal with them then?" The guard captain asked, looking slightly relieved. He had obviously expected to encounter wrath at disturbing his king's peace.

            "Yes…but wait!" Aragorn exclaimed as the two turned to go. "Tell the troops to take as many prisoners as possible. I am interested to find why these orcs have come here, knowing they cannot hope to defeat us, as they are hopelessly outnumbered."

            They nodded, bowed, then stepped sprightly off, soon melting into the patchwork of darkness. 

            Faramir cleared his throat, and Aragorn started. He'd almost forgotten the Steward was here. "You seem confident that these orcs are nothing serious." Faramir said casually.

            Aragorn eyed his friend suspiciously. "They are outnumbered, and the guards mentioned nothing special about them. Why do you question my confidence?"

            Faramir frowned. "I do not mean to insult you. It was merely a thought of mine that small parties of orcs are not commonly found attacking large, well-defended cities, not since the Ring was destroyed. This whole thing seems quite peculiar."

            "Now that you have voiced that, it rests uneasily in my mind as well." Aragorn sighed, running a hand through his hair. "But there is nothing we can do about it, at least not until morning. Go now, and get some rest." 

            Dismissed, Faramir walked slowly off, disappearing into the night. Aragorn watched him go until the man's receding figure could no longer be seen. Then, with a deep sigh, he turned back to his now public garden.

            Glancing up at the stars, Aragorn found them covered with a blanket of sullen gray clouds. The stars always comforted him, winking brightly no matter how depressing things seemed back on Middle Earth. To see they had been hidden to him was not at all pleasing.

            Opening a door in the garden's stone wall, Aragorn left his thoughts of isolation behind and trotted into the palace.

**********

            Legolas woke with a start in his guest room. He and Gimli had been visiting the palace and Aragorn, and had only just arrived three days ago. His rest had not been easy since he had stayed here—strange visions of a cloud of darkness, tendrils of it curling toward him, had woken him repeatedly. 

            But this night it was different. He sensed something drawing near besides orcs—he'd feel their presence anywhere, and had already informed some soldiers stationed at the palace of it. This new feeling was of something he had encountered only a few times before. Sorcery, and evil sorcery at that.

            It was moving steadily towards the city, that much he knew. But what it was, and what it would do, he could not predict.

            A loud snore from the room across the corridor informed the elf that Gimli, at least, was not plagued by troublesome dreams. For a moment, Legolas almost wished he was a carefree dwarf, but then scoffed the idea aside. Who would want to dwell in the bowels of the earth, never to seek out the sunlight?

            He heard a door open somewhere, and knew it to be Aragorn, returning from wherever he'd been brooding. His sensitive ears picked up Arwen's murmured welcome to her husband, then all was silent in the palace.

            Suddenly the stone walls seemed unbearably confining, and Legolas crept to the window and opened the latch. Slipping out the large opening, bare feet gripped the stonework below him to find support. Letting his hands grip the windowsill, and his feet to hang, Legolas twisted his head to see that the ground was only a paltry few feet below him.

            He dropped, landing silently on the balls of his feet. The grass welcomed an elf's touch, making no sound as he strided through it. He wanted to see woods again, but there were none near here. The next best thing was a garden, so he crept to the first one he found, on the outskirts of the palace.

            It had obviously just been occupied, as footprints were easily identified in the soft dirt. Recognizing the tread of Aragorn's boots, Legolas leaned down to examine them. So this was where he'd been hiding, and it appeared he'd been discovered. Three other kinds of boots were imprinted near his.

            Straightening up, Legolas glanced around the small garden. Aragorn must come here for solitude, for there were no stone benches or small nooks to perch in. Walking over to the flowerbed, the tall elf smiled as he recognized some small yellow sprigs of _elanor_, the flower Aragorn had presented to Arwen when they had met.

            Elanor was also the name of Sam's eldest daughter, Legolas mused to himself. It had been long since he'd seen the faithful hobbits, and a small part of him wanted to journey to the Shire and see how they fared.

            But the largest part of him overruled that feeling by emitting a strong desire to return to the woods. He sighed; recalling his promise to visit with Aragorn for at least a month, for it had also been long since he had spoken with the King.

            Sitting on a moderately suitable rock near the back of the garden, Legolas allowed himself to relax as he surrounded himself with his treasured nature.

**********

            Tammith peered around the darkness of his small home. Near his own bed lay his sister's cot, where she lay breathing heavily. 

            His mother made no sound as she tossed fitfully on her bed, but Tammith sensed her agitation, for his mother had been stricken with a mysterious ailment.

            It was nothing like Tam had ever seen before, for the throat became too sore to speak, the eyes watered continuously, the head throbbed beyond bearing, and the whole body ached with a vengeance, or so his mother described it. She would not let her son or husband drag her to the House of Healing, claiming she was much too unimportant to visit the healers there.

            So young Tam had to wait, and hope his mother became immune to the disease. Tam sighed, and closed his tired eyes, determined to let sleep carry away all his troubles. 

            But plaguing him for a moment before he fell into dreams was the twinge of pain in his head, and the momentary itching of his throat…

_Author's Notes: Well, it's a bit odd but I hope you enjoyed it. Next chapter will up as soon as possible, and please R&R! It makes me feel SPECIAL! *ahem* Also, I'm looking for a beta reader. Must be quite familiar with Lord of the Rings. Thankies! _


	2. Chapter II

_Chapter II of As Shadows Draw Near_

__

            The resounding clash of metal upon metal rang throughout Rydrel's body as the orc's lethally curved sword crashed against his shield.

            His arm throbbing from the strength of the impact, Rydrel ducked as well as he could in his cumbersome armor as the orc came back for another swing. Rydrel slashed out with his own sword quickly, hoping to catch the foul creature off guard.

            But ducking with surprising agility, the orc scored a shallow hit on Rydrel's shoulder, making him wince in surprise and sudden pain. Seeing his opening, the orc thrust his sword at his foe's heart, intending to skewer the foolish soldier.

            But he had not counted on Rydrel's quick mind. The soldier stepped aside at the last moment, at the same time throwing his shield down. The orc was neatly tripped and went flying, just in time for one of the archers in the back lines to send a fletched messenger of death straight into the orc's back.

            Rydrel straightened up and rescued his shield, ignoring the steady pulse of pain in his shoulder, and peered around the battlefield. It appeared that most of the orcs were slain, but the ground was also littered with the bodies of Gondor's own.

            Rydrel frowned. He'd only been a soldier for less than a year, but he'd never met orcs like this. They were well trained and obeyed their captain, who had been an incredibly skilled fighter, without question.

            These orcs must have a leader, a warlord who'd been training them. They'd been slain, for they were hopelessly outnumbered, but they'd put up a disturbingly good fight.

            Rydrel bit his lip in thought, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together, but it appeared they had not all been assembled yet, and his train of thought was broken as a fellow soldier marched up to him. Handing him a cluster of _athelas_ and a white strip of gauze, the soldier nodded for Rydrel to follow him.

            Quickly binding the herbs and the bandage around his injured shoulder, Rydrel hurried after him. The soldiers appeared to be assembling at the edge of the battlefield.

            "Go collect the dead, but heap the dead orcs in a pile. We will burn them, for the ground should not be marred with their remains. Our dead we shall bury." The captain announced gravely, eyes showing no happiness at their victory.

            Rydrel marched off with the others to collect the departed.

**********

            He was flying like a bird over the realm of Gondor; till the white city was lost to view and lands he had never seen before lay below him. He might even have caught a brief glimpse of the Shire as he sped northwards, and slightly westwards as well. 

_            Suddenly the sunlight seemed to fade, although it did not appear to be evening. Within moments, the ground became scorched and black, with pits of fire blooming at intervals. He flew onwards more slowly, coming into view of a dark red fortress that put him in mind of the color of blood._

_            It was bigger than anything Sauron had ever made, and radiated an evil so strong he almost faltered and cried out, but something told him it was important to stay quiet and see what would happen._

_            A booming voice echoed in his head. "THE MORCHANT WATCHER SEES YOU!"_

_            Then all went black._

            Legolas awoke out of that strange sleep, if you can even call it that, that elves take with a start. Cold sweat poured down his fair face, and his flaxen hair hung limp and wilted. Fear as he had never known before rushed through him.

            Had it been a dream? For elves, nothing was just a dream. Dreams meant something, were important, and often foretold of things to come.

            The archer shivered slightly, remembering the echoing voice. Morchant…Morchant…the word was vaguely familiar to him.

            It was Sindarin, he recalled suddenly, and roughly translated, meant 'shadow.' 

            "The Shadow Watcher…" He mused quietly to himself, mind a confused whirl of thoughts, all clashing with each other. "Shadow…Watcher…blood red….North, and slightly west." 

            Shaking his head to clear it, he jerked open the window, suddenly pining for a breath of cool air. The temperature in his room seemed to have become unbearably hot.

            Hearing raised voices across the courtyard, Legolas's ears perked up. It appeared to be Aragorn and Faramir. He was about to close the window, not wanting to eavesdrop, when he caught a word.

            "Epidemic…"

            Legolas stiffened, and leaned out the window further, determined to catch the rest of the conversation.

            "So there is a mysterious illness plaguing the streets of the city." Faramir was saying.

            "That is quite an understatement, my friend." Aragorn's words held a note of barely contained dread. "It has inflicted nearly a sixth of the population in less than eight days, and new cases appear everyday."

            "Have the healers stumbled upon a cure yet?" Faramir asked, his voice filled with worry.

            "No. But they are using _athelas_ to some effect to slow the course of the illness." Aragorn sighed. 

            "But how long will the supply of it last?" Faramir wanted to know.

            "I hope at least a fortnight, but we cannot be sure." Aragorn's speech now was filled with panic.

            Suddenly Legolas knew he had something he needed to tell them, something very important. It hadn't ever seemed significant, but now it might hold the key to Gondor's survival.

            Slipping out his window without a sound, Legolas stole across the dew stained grass towards the speakers.

            "Aragorn, Faramir?" He questioned, not wishing to startle them but doing so anyway.

            "Legolas! Do not creep up like that! You elves should at least make some sound…" Faramir murmured to himself.

            Legolas smiled faintly, and Aragorn looked at him carefully. "You look like something heavy is resting on your mind." He said mildly, gray eyes fixated on the elf.

            "I have heard your conversation-" Faramir frowned at this. "And I know of something that may help." Legolas continued, with an apologetic look at the Steward.

            "What is this?" Aragorn sounded eager.

            "It is a strange poem, a piece of elvish lore taught to elven children in their youth. For some reason, the words caught in my mind tonight and would not leave. Here it is in full:" 

            Hereupon Legolas took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and began to recite.

"_The_ auth _with the_ yrch is a sign

As are the visions that appear to the archer

That those who are bell and fine

Will soon be victim to the torture.

But amidst the hands of an aran

Life and healing shall spring forth

But perilous is the journey

To the edlothiad springs of the north.

Collect the gwaloth and steep

The red naur in the spring water

But watch your back as then south you keep

For the Morchant Watcher knows no fear: and darkness is his daughter."

            "Why do some of the words seem to have Elvish roots, and the rest are in the Common tongue?" Aragorn questioned

"It was first written by an Sindarin Elf who had little grasp of other languages, and therefore did not know all of the translations." Legolas explained. "I will repeat it again, this time so you may understand it in full."

"The battle with the orcs is a sign

As are the visions that appear to the archer.

That those who are strong and fine

Will soon be victim to the torture.

But amidst the hands of a king

Life and healing shall spring forth

But perilous is the journey

To the flowering springs of the north.

Collect the blossoms and steep

The red fire in the spring water

But watch your back as then south you keep

For the Shadow Watcher knows no fear: and darkness is his daughter."

            "What can this mean?" Faramir asked slowly, turning the words over in his mind.

            "The battle with the orcs has already occurred." Aragorn said slowly. "And the visions that appear to the archer…Legolas? Have you experienced any odd dreams lately?"

            The elf frowned. "For the past nights that I have dwelt in Minas Tirith, my nights have been plagued with visions of a cloud of darkness, reaching out with sinister tendrils to ensnare Gondor. And this night I was awoken by a new dream." He told them of his vision in full, and they scowled when they heard of the ruined land, and the blood hued fortress.

            "It sounds like Sauron reborn." Faramir commented, all color draining from his face.

            All was silent for a moment, as the three realized that was indeed a possibility. 

            "But the ring was destroyed, and why would he rebuild his fortress in the North, instead of the East? This may be a wholly new threat." Aragorn said stoutly.

            "The torture…could that be the illness?" Legolas suddenly ventured, and his question was received by a decisive nod from Aragorn.

            "I feel it in my heart that this is so. And the second verse…it sounds like I are supposed to journey to the North to get the cure!" Aragorn broke into a brief grin as he puzzled out the second verse, but it quickly faded. "But then how am I supposed to offer support to my people in their time of need?"  
            "You would do better by getting the cure, rather than sitting about waiting for them all to perish." Faramir said bluntly. 

            Aragorn sighed heavily. "I suppose you are right. But what about the third stanza? How can you steep fire in water?"

            "This you cannot know until you arrive at the Springs of the North." Legolas announced. "But the part about the Morchant Watcher…that was in my vision!"

            The two men frowned. "What can this mean? Faramir repeated.

            "It means that evil is indeed coming anew to Minas Tirith." Aragorn said slowly and deliberately. "And I am the one that must stop it.

**********

            Gimli was awakened by the shafts of pale sunlight streaming across his bed. Sitting upright, the dwarf straightened his beard methodically, dressed, and made to open his door.

            The doorknob has been specially lowered so he could reach it, but before Gimli's hand could fasten on the brass doorknob, something strange came over him.

            The world seemed to whirl around him dizzily, the colors blurring in a most nauseating fashion. His head pounded enough to feel like it was cleaven in two, and his throat became paper-dry and sore beyond reckoning. His whole stout body ached fiercely. Weaving and stumbling, Gimli fell back into his bed and remained there until Legolas, who was wondering what had befallen the dwarf so that he did not rise the time he usually did, found him there.

Author's Notes: A few qualms about the characters I posted in the first chapter: Rydrel is not a main character(as is Tammith), only Aragorn and Legolas are. I'm not sure if I will be including Gandalf, but if you really want him in the story you can post your opinion in your review.  Also, sorry if my Sindarin words aren't correct, but I hope they are since I got them from a fairly reliable Sindarin dictionary. 

            A couple special thanks: To Ellwyn, for the beta, to Kate, for being…ish. (The cheese slices! Lol) and of course to all the people who reviewed. ^___^ Thanks again!


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